


Press Start

by kosagum



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Strangers to Lovers, am i projecting, i am projecting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:54:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25458883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kosagum/pseuds/kosagum
Summary: “I wanna take care of you. I wanna take care of you, and I wanna help you take care of yourself.”Kenma’s face turned to look at Kuroo’s, his eyes wider and his heartbeat faster than he’d ever say. Kuroo met Kenma’s gaze, looking away from the window toward Kenma. Hues of orange and yellow-orange danced about his cheeks, his hazel eyes shining like gold in the setting sun.For an instant, Kenma was spellbound.“Can I?”— In which Kenma is a shut-in YouTuber and Kuroo is a concerned delivery boy. —
Relationships: Bokuto Koutarou & Kuroo Tetsurou, Hinata Shouyou & Kozume Kenma, Kozume Kenma & Kuroo Tetsurou, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 18
Kudos: 87





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> the self-indulgence is showing here. is kuroken my relationship template ? maybe. juuust maybe.

_ One more. _

Kenma Kozume flicked his mouse and clicked — right on time, as he shot an enemy moving toward him from behind.

He was in top form tonight. Manipulating his avatar with ease across the battlefield, Kenma moved in leaps and bounds as he took out enemies coming toward him left and right. He squinted at his screen, his gaze far too intense for… what was it now? A glance at the toolbar on his computer read 3:41 AM.

Kenma turned his attention back to the game, a first-person shooter that had been getting popular in the past few weeks — a game that his subscribers on YouTube had been calling on him to play.

He never thought he would gain popularity on YouTube - enough for him to afford his own apartment in his first year of university. Or that his personality, of all things, was the reason for that popularity. Under the username  _ kodzuken _ , Kenma started off by releasing videogame let’s plays and reviews in his free time, eventually expanding to Q&As and the occasional vlog. His audience had become a community, and Kenma found himself uploading more and more over time to meet its demands.

And it looked like his next upload was going to be a let’s play.

_ One more, just one more - _

The doorbell rang.

Kenma flinched in alarm, and his momentary lapse in concentration was enough for the surrounding enemies to swarm him. Kenma leaned back into his chair, scowling in frustration at his computer as his avatar on-screen was hit by a bomb, defeated in an explosion that sent arcs of light and color ricocheting across Kenma’s apartment.

The doorbell rang again, and then again. Kenma rubbed his eyes as he stood up, groaning at the abrasiveness of the noise crashing through his ears at  _ this _ late into the night. He shuffled to the door of his apartment, grumbling incoherently in response to the disturbance that had cost him the stage.

For Kenma, nights like tonight weren’t always spent gaming until daybreak — not even in high school, a time when the size of his YouTube channel was nothing in comparison to the hundreds of thousands of subscribers he had now. At some point, days studying turned into nights gaming, and textbooks on game theory hid under stacks of notes about content, content, content. When he moved to Tokyo for university,  _ something _ changed.

Opening the door to his apartment, Kenma was met with the chest of a man wearing what looked like a uniform. Kenma narrowed his eyes at the company labeled on his uniform’s shirt, disoriented before remembering oh, that’s right; he’d ordered takeout.

“You answered!” Kenma winced at the enthusiasm in the delivery guy’s voice. It was far too late in the night - or early in the morning? - for human interaction. “Kozume Kenma-san, right? I’m new, so I wasn’t sure if I had the right place.”

_ You have the right place, alright.  _ Kenma thought irritably, humming an indication that the reason behind the end of Kenma’s win streak  _ indeed _ had the right place. As Kenma was pulling out his wallet, his eyes flitted to the delivery guy’s name tag.

_ Kuroo. His name is Kuroo. _

“A bit late to be eating dinner,” he commented, as Kenma fumbled through change and receipts littered throughout his wallet.

Kenma stopped. His gaze moved up from his wallet to look the delivery guy in the face. The brightness of the hallway blared bright shades of white and gold into his eyes, and it took Kenma a second to adjust to the sudden rush of light after a long night of gaming.

The first thing that stood out to Kenma was the guy’s hair. Did he use gel? Mousse? Whatever it was, it made him look absurd. Dark, black hair sticking up in odd angles, in odd places - partially hanging over… what color was that? Hazel. Hazel eyes. He looked like he was around Kenma’s age. A slight smirk was playing on his face, much to Kenma’s annoyance.

“A bit late to be annoying customers,” Kenma responded flatly, his attention returning back to his wallet.

He blinked in surprise at Kenma’s retort, before his face split back into a smirk. “Just trying my hand at customer-to-business relations. How did I do?”

Disruptive, like that explosion. Yet despite himself, Kenma found himself fighting a smile.

“Stay in foodservice,” Kenma replied as he swiped his card across the mobile card reader, biting the inside of his cheek in the effort of hiding his amusement.

“Foodservice, Kozume-san!” he half-stepped back, mouth agape in false indignation. “After I graciously  _ delivered _ _ — _ ”

“And while you’re at it,” Kenma continued, trying to ignore him as he tucked his card back into his wallet and grabbed his order from Kuroo’s outstretched arm. “Knock next time… Kuroo.”

At the sound of a beep from the reader, Kenma closed the door in Kuroo’s face. Exhaling with a sigh, Kenma dropped the food in his arms onto a table nearby before making his way to one of the many windows lining his apartment walls. Lifting it open, Kenma felt the night breeze blow past him, bringing with it the sounds of rushing crowds and distant traffic. The soft glow of the streetlights below him casting light into the darkness. The smell of fresh takeout wafting throughout his apartment. The early morning hours after a long night of gaming. The feeling of solitude after that conversation with… what was his name? Ah, right.

_ Kuroo. _

Kenma smiled to himself, recalling the look on Kuroo’s face when he called his name. A mixture of surprise and curiosity. As annoying as he was, his company was… warm. He guessed. He guessed that it was a nice change from the cold of his apartment on nights like these.

He also guessed that maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t actually mind a next time.

Outside, lights were flickering out across the city skyline. From where he was, Kenma could make out Kuroo’s silhouette mounting a moped and driving into the night. His previous frustrations dissipating as the night stilled, Kenma turned away from the window, settling back into his chair and starting up his computer once more.

* * *

“You again.”

He was pulling yet another all-nighter. A knock at his apartment door had led to Kenma opening it, eager for the delivery of his first and only meal of the day — only to be met with that too-familiar lopsided grin and unruly hair.

“Well,” Kuroo chuckled, holding out Kenma’s order with a smirk. “You did say ‘next time,’ Kozume-san.”

It had been a few days since he’d first met Kuroo — if meeting someone for the first time meant insults thrown back and forth and closing the door in Kuroo’s face. Someone like Kuroo was new to Kenma, someone who was… familiar.  _ Overwhelmingly _ familiar. Rolling his eyes, he took his order with a huff; Kenma must be imagining the warmth behind his eyes, and the way he held Kenma’s order - amongst others - with care. 

“Couldn’t they have sent someone else?” Kenma grumbled, swiping his card across Kuroo’s card reader. “Someone who  _ doesn’t _ make me lose a game whenever they knock at my door?”

“A game?” Kuroo cocked his head to the side, the smirk on his face softening to a smile. “What kind of game?”

Kenma flinched; he didn’t mean to let that slip.

“Uh…,” Kenma muttered, his voice growing quieter as he looked away. God, this was embarrassing. Kuroo must be embarrassed  _ for _ him; Kenma would be.

Kenma stole a glance at Kuroo’s face, fully expecting a look of pity, or worse - mockery. But Kuroo’s smile was… warm. Full of genuine curiosity.

_ He actually wants to know _ .

The thought made Kenma’s embarrassment fade into comfort, as he turned to look back up at Kuroo’s face.

“A videogame. It was a videogame,” he finished tentatively. To Kenma’s surprise, Kuroo’s eyes lit up in eagerness.

“A videogame, huh?” Kuroo hummed playfully, tapping a finger on his chin for… effect, Kenma gathered. “How about you teach me how to play it sometime?”

“...You?”

Kenma hadn’t thought of it before. Of befriending Kuroo, outside of takeout deliveries and derisive conversation. Looking at Kuroo now, he realized that he might,  _ might _ not  _ hate _ the thought. 

“I don’t even know your first name,” Kenma confessed, his voice soft with sincerity.

Now Kuroo was surprised, pausing before giving a response. “It’s Tetsurou,” he replied, eyes widened. “Kuroo Tetsurou.”

“Tetsurou…?”

Kuroo nodded emphatically, and Kenma found himself biting the inside of his cheek again at the widening grin on Kuroo’s face.

“It doesn’t suit you.”

Kuroo only laughed in response, smiling happily at Kenma as the two lapsed into silence. A comfortable silence — until Kuroo started, snapping Kenma back to reality.

“I have to go make other deliveries!” he exclaimed, pocketing his card reader in a hurry. Kenma looked on, amused as he watched Kuroo shift the remaining orders in his arms. “I’ll, uh, see you around?”

“See you around,” Kenma waved him off, fighting yet another smile as Kuroo waved back with his signature smirk now warm from their chat.

_ Kuroo Tetsurou. _

Closing the door, Kenma settled back into his apartment’s sitting room, where he had left his television running a game. Unbeknownst to himself, Kenma was smiling. He looked out the window, watching gray clouds pass over stars in the sky. The moon seemed brighter than usual, illuminating the streets below as Kenma watched Kuroo drive out of sight once again.

_ It doesn’t suit him. Not at all. _


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for the kudos and comments on the last chapter ! :D

_Pear or apple?_

Kenma tilted his head, deep in thought as he studied the two options before him. On one shelf… pear juice. Kenma hummed, his eyes beginning to wander toward the second option. On the shelf above it… apple juice, Kenma’s go-to during midnight snack runs.

A snack run like tonight’s search for dinner, before Kenma was going to host a livestream.

 _Apple_ , Kenma decided, grabbing a packet off of the shelf and tossing it into his bag.

He had a habit of hosting livestreams late at night. His audience wasn’t the problem; Kenma had fans on an international scale. Rather, the problem was his sleeping habits. Kenma’s eyes felt strained from the glare of the store lights alone; he was too used to gaming, too used to staying up late. Not used to going out 

Kenma glanced down either side of the aisle, the fluorescence above head beaming spots of white into his vision. Kenma blinked the sleep out of his eyes; the convenience store was empty, save for Kenma and the cashier. Having obtained his “meal” for the night, Kenma made his way to checkout, wallet in hand. Kenma yawned, vision blurring as his eyes focused on the face of the cashier in front of him.

“Are you _always_ up this late?”

Kenma gave a start, dropping the food he had removed from his bag onto the counter. He narrowed his eyes at the cashier, registering his features for the first time.

Nonsensical hair. That familiar smirk.

It was Kuroo, alright.

“I could ask you the same question…,” Kenma sighed, relaxing at the sight of Kuroo from across the counter. “Are you _always_ working?”

Kuroo laughed, his voice echoing down the aisles. To Kenma, it was a welcome sound before what was going to be a long night. “Well, we _do_ only meet when I am working.”

Kenma hummed in dissent, watching as Kuroo scanned each item and pushed it down the counter. His eyes wandered to Kuroo’s, noting the look of concentration on his face as he flipped an item and scanned it. Flip, scan. Flip, sca— ah, he caught Kenma staring. As golden eyes met hazel, Kenma looked away; he felt heat seeping into his face as Kuroo giggled to himself.

“That’ll be ¥1,261, Kozume-san,” Kuroo concluded, as Kenma slid his card into the reader. 

“Speaking of working,” Kuroo continued, pulling Kenma’s gaze back to his. “My shift’s just about over.”

Kenma tilted his head to the side in bewilderment.

“I can walk you back,” Kuroo suggested tentatively.

Kenma blinked in surprise, not finding himself _against_ the idea. He wondered why Kuroo offered to walk him back home, becoming… curious. Curious about Kuroo’s offer, and curious about Kuroo himself— Kenma wanted to know more about him.

“What’s in it for me?”

“I can carry your stuff for you, too,” Kuroo laughed again. “But to be honest, I just wanna talk to you.”

Kenma answered, not giving himself the chance to think.

“I want to talk to you, too.”

* * *

The tone rang as Kenma and Kuroo stepped out onto the street, signaling the start of the night as the doors to the convenience store slid shut behind them. Outside, the moon shone bright in the night sky, dark without a star in sight. A few cars passed, sending a breeze rustling through Kuroo’s mess of a hairdo as Kenma watched. Kuroo seemed to be taking in the night ahead of him, and Kenma was startled again when Kuroo met Kenma’s stare with a smile.

“Where to?”

Kenma shook his head— staring at Kuroo was becoming too much of a habit. He dipped his head to the right of the convenience store, and the two began to walk, streetlights and lightning bugs alike illuminating their path. 

“So…,” Kenma started, unsure of where to begin. “How are you… everywhere?”

Kuroo laughed again— this time, reverberating throughout the street, no longer trapped by the walls of the convenience store. “I have too many jobs,” Upon seeing Kenma’s questioning look, Kuroo continued, “Part-time jobs.”

“Like?”

“Like…” Kuroo began to count off his fingers in contemplation. “Back there in the convenience store, takeout delivery… oh, and packing and moving.”

Kenma’s nose wrinkled in distaste— the _idea_ of working that many jobs was overwhelming to him. “Too much work,” Kenma frowned accusingly at Kuroo. “You really _are_ always working.”

“Not really,” Kuroo laughed lightly. “I have to go to class _some_ of the time.”

“Class? You’re in university?” At Kuroo’s nod, Kenma scoffed, a smug smile spreading across his face. “Are you majoring in having more than one dead-end job?”

“Economics, actually,” Kuroo snorted, eyebrows upturned in amusement. “What about you? Are you majoring in being a shut-in?”

“Game theory, _actually_ ,” Kenma mimicked Kuroo, who burst into laughter at what was supposed to be Kenma’s impression of Kuroo.

A comfortable silence fell between the two as they crossed a street, the night wind blowing past as their shoulders brushed against one another. Kenma became acutely aware of the space between them - or rather, the lack thereof - but felt… natural by Kuroo’s side.

“Do you also work part-time then, Kozume-san?” Kuroo asked, breaking the silence as they made it to the other side of the road.

Kenma’s eyes furrowed immediately— right, he had to do a livestream soon. “...Sort of,” Kenma mumbled, feeling Kuroo watching him. “I do YouTube.”

“YouTube? You make YouTube videos?” Kenma nodded. Kuroo blinked, taking note of Kenma’s despondence. “About…?”

“Video games, but,” Kenma took a deep breath, sneaking a glance at Kuroo’s face. Kuroo was waiting for Kenma to continue, smiling as he let Kenma take his time. Kenma knew Kuroo was a stranger, but he also knew Kuroo felt… different. He felt trustworthy— so Kenma decided to trust him. “But I’ve been tired of it.”

Kuroo hummed in understanding, and Kenma took it as a sign to keep going. “I haven’t been making content for _myself_ , and I guess…” Kenma sighed, his breath a puff in the evening chill. “I don’t know, I guess I miss it.”

Kenma huffed, his steps feeling heavier and heavier as his apartment drew close. He was _not_ looking forward to this livestream. Kenma began to fall behind, and Kuroo slowed to match Kenma’s pace. By Kenma’s side, Kuroo nudged him gently, getting his attention.

“Why don’t you take a break?” Kuroo suggested, his voice quiet with worry. _Worry_.

“A break?” Kenma had never thought of it. YouTube had been— no, _was_ his life since high school. kodzuken _was_ his life, and a part of his audience’s lives; he didn’t know anything beyond it. Kenma shook his head. “I can’t take a break.”

“Everyone needs a break, don’t they?” Kuroo mused. Seeing Kenma roll his eyes, Kuroo continued, “Everyone needs to take care of their mind, and their heart. And you need to get your blood circulating to do that,” Kenma scoffed— Mind? Heart? _Blood_? What was Kuroo on about? He couldn’t make sense of it, but Kuroo’s roundabout attempt at encouragement made a smile find its way to Kenma’s face. “But from what I can tell, you—” 

“Ah,” Kenma blinked, the entrance to his apartment building coming into focus. “We’re here.”

Kenma watched as Kuroo craned his neck, searching for Kenma’s apartment above them. “The last time I was here, you were playing a video game, right?” 

“I was, until _you_ knocked on my door,” Kenma reflected, his face scrunching up at the memory. “And I lost.”

Kuroo turned his head back to Kenma, his smirk softening to something… apologetic. “Sorry about that, Kozume-san.”

“And stop calling me ‘Kozume-san,’” Kenma frowned; he was never going to like formalities. “Just call me Kenma.”

“Just Kenma?”

“Just Kenma.”

“So… we’re friends?” Kuroo teased, much to Kenma’s annoyance. It seemed like Kenma was always annoyed around Kuroo.

“No, we’re not.”

“I think we’re friends.”

“We’re not friends.”

“Then, since we’re friends and all…”

“Again, we’re not—”

“Can I have your number?”

At some point, Kuroo had fished his phone out of his pocket and was holding it out to Kenma. Kenma blinked, his gaze shifting between Kuroo’s phone and Kuroo himself. Kuroo still had a smile on his face, waiting for Kenma’s reply.

Kenma’s gaze settled on Kuroo’s phone, which was already open to Kuroo’s contacts. The only people Kenma had in his contacts were his parents, a friend or two from high school, and other resources for work and school. It wasn’t exactly like Kenma was running out of room.

And besides, Kenma _liked_ Kuroo’s company. He liked how warm Kuroo was, how cold nights were filled with conversation and laughter whenever he was with Kuroo. How talking to Kuroo put Kenma completely at ease. It was appreciated by Kenma, who stopped _talking_ to people after he moved.

Kenma's eyes lingered for a moment longer, before his hand reached out toward Kuroo’s phone.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks again for the kudos and comments !! <3

“Have a nice day!”

Kuroo called after the last customer, who bowed in response and turned away. Kuroo found himself calling after customers less and less, and he was just about ready to go home early out of boredom.

It was slow at work tonight. Streetlights were turning on outside, and cars were filling the streets, one by one. The convenience store was emptying out for the night, with more customers going out and fewer customers coming in. Kuroo sighed in defeat; having just clocked in, the end of his shift was nowhere in sight.

“Hey, hey, _hey_!”

Kuroo turned around, a smirk on his lips as he was met with the sight of his friend and coworker Koutarou Bokuto, who was making his way out of the break room with outspread arms.

“ _Heyyy_ , Bokuto,” Kuroo replied in imitation of his friend, who guffawed as he smacked Kuroo on the back.

“Just clocked in?”

Kuroo sighed dramatically, bringing his arm up to return Bokuto’s hit with one of his own. “Alas, yes. Just clocked out?”

“Almost,” Bokuto beamed, releasing Kuroo and stepping back as he thumbed his chest triumphantly. “My _boyfriend_ Akaashi is coming to pick me up.”

“You two got together?” Bokuto nodded enthusiastically, and Kuroo wiped an imaginary tear away from his eye. “I’m happy for you, bro.”

“Thanks, bro,” Bokuto beamed again. “By the way, how’s that Kozume of yours?”

At the mention of Kenma’s name, Kuroo stopped, his eyes lit up with curiosity.

It had been about two months since he’d met Kenma, and Kenma had been living in his mind ever since then. His interest in Kenma only grew each time they met, each time he caught Kenma laughing at something he’d said or done. Each time he got Kenma to talk about gaming or making videos and he saw the _look_ in Kenma’s eyes.

“‘Of mine’?” Kuroo repeated, raising a brow at Bokuto. “Since when was Kenma mine?”

It was Bokuto’s turn to gape at Kuroo. “You’ve been talking about him for _weeks_ now. Ask him out already!” As Kuroo opened his mouth to reply, Bokuto’s phone buzzed. “Ah—! That’s Akaashi!”

Before Kuroo knew it, Bokuto was racing out the entrance, waving over his shoulder and leaving Kuroo alone with his thoughts. He rested his chin in his hand, leaning against the counter and looking up at the ceiling.

Kenma. Did he eat yet? Sleep? He wondered if Kenma was taking care of himself. If Kenma was free from work to hang out. He’d been dodging Kuroo as of late, leaving Kuroo on read and not picking up Kuroo’s calls. Kuroo knew Kenma needed his space from time to time, but this time felt off; he was going to check up on Kenma after his shift tonight.

The thought of seeing Kenma again brought a smile to Kuroo’s face.

Suddenly, the tone at the entrance rang, pulling Kuroo out of his thoughts as he began to ready himself for another customer.

* * *

The tone rang as Kenma entered the convenience store, doors sliding shut behind him. The shop was almost empty, with only three or four people left about the aisles. As his eyes found the checkout counter, Kenma cursed to himself; Kuroo was working tonight. Kuroo, the last person who Kenma wanted to see— who Kenma wanted to hide from.

Kenma was having one of the worst days of his life. A livestream that went on for too long, too late left him feeling even more tired than usual. It took one choice, one reason for viewers to flood the chat with calls for him to redo it, to restart. One reason for Kenma to want to turn off the camera and stop streaming altogether.

To stop doing YouTube altogether.

Kenma grabbed some junk food off of the shelves before making his way to checkout. He tried to ignore the enthusiasm in Kuroo’s face, the anticipation in Kuroo’s eyes as he approached him.

“Kenma!” The look on Kuroo’s face dimmed with worry as soon as Kenma came close, his head hanging low as he slid his items over the counter aside a few bills. “Everything okay?”

Kenma nodded, but the twist of his face and the tension in his back didn’t escape Kuroo’s notice. “You don’t look okay,” Kuroo noted, watching Kenma as he took the bills and pushed Kenma’s change across the counter.

“I’m _okay_ ,” Kenma muttered, grappling with the change as he slid it into his wallet. “I can take care of myself.”

“Clearly, you can’t,” Kuroo retorted, earning stares from the people behind Kenma in line and in the shop. Kenma avoided Kuroo’s gaze, avoided the look of worry in his face and the way his brows furrowed in frustration.

“Yes, I can.”

“No, you can’t.”

“I can.”

“...You can’t.”

“Yes, I can!” Kenma blurted out, heating up from the embarrassment of feeling the eyes of customers on the back of his head. It was too late and he was too tired for this, too tired to do anything but go home. “I can, so don’t worry about me.”

“I’ll worry, anyway,” Kuroo said simply, meeting Kenma’s eyes with his own.

“ _Don’t_ ,” Kenma hissed in reply. “Just… don’t.”

Kenma snatched his food off of the counter, turning about and leaving Kuroo to watch him go. Customer and coworker alike stared after Kenma, who was moving down the aisles in a rush. The tone rang as he went out; this time, Kenma was alone.

* * *

When Kenma got home, he fell face-first into his bed and fell fast asleep, exhaustion overwhelming him until dawn. It was the sound of a _knock, knock_ at the door that woke him up, bleary-eyed and blinking as he rose out of bed. The palms of his hands were damp as he propped himself up. Kenma’s pillow was wet with tears; he must’ve cried in his sleep.

Kenma made his way to the door, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hoodie as he opened it. Outside on the hallway floor was a plastic bag from the convenience store down the street— Kuroo. Kenma’s eyes widened as he picked it up, closing the door as he backed into his apartment. He inhaled, the aroma of fat and oil wafting around him where he stood.

Opening the bag, the smell of its contents spilled outward, surrounding Kenma completely. He knew the smell was familiar; it was his favorite from the place Kuroo worked at, his go-to on nights like these. 

_He remembered_ , Kenma realized, heat rushing up to his neck. Peering into the box, Kenma saw a note left on top of the box, reading:

 _Hey, Kenma! I’m still worried about you, so here’s something to fill you up. Your favorite, right? I’ll bring more the next time I see you._ _—_ _Kuroo_

Reaching in, Kenma took one of the orders. He let the warmth seep into the palm of his hand, let the steam billow into his face still cold from tears. Kenma took a bite; as ridiculous as it was, it reminded him so, so much of Kuroo that he felt like crying again.

Leaving the box of takeout in a corner of his apartment, Kenma made his way to an open window, food in hand. He exhaled, turning his face up to the sky; dawn was here. Kenma ate the rest of Kuroo’s food, watching the sun rise as the blotchiness of his cheeks began to fade with the cool morning air.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, thanks for the kudos and comments :)

Kenma rolled around his bed, glaring at the screen of his phone. His phone clock read 6:34PM; Kuroo would be out of class by now. Should he text Kuroo? Call? He’d seen Kuroo almost two days ago, back in the convenience store — back when they had that fight. Kenma shook his head, glancing out at the sun beginning to set on the horizon. Below the window, streetlights were beginning to flicker on, illuminating the streets under a darkening sky.

He wanted to apologize to Kuroo. For making him worry, for avoiding him. For embarrassing him  _ at his job _ . Kenma sighed, burying his face in his pillow. For a lot of things. Kenma had thought and thought for the last day and a half — and he wanted Kuroo to know everything.

Lifting up the phone to his face, Kenma narrowed his eyes at the screen. Now or never, he supposed, dialing Kuroo’s number. He ignored the nervousness in his chest as the tone rang once. Twi —

“Kenma?”

Kenma jumped, almost dropping his phone. He responded with a mumble, then a “Yes.”

“How do you feel?”

Kuroo’s voice sounds… thankful from the other end of the phone. Thankful that Kenma had called him.

“Okay, but…,” Kenma bit his lip. He wanted to apologize to Kuroo in person. To  _ talk _ to Kuroo, in person. “Can you come over?”

Silence and the sound of Kenma’s heartbeat — until Kuroo spoke up, his words all a rush. “Be there in 15.”

Kuroo is the first to hang up, with Kenma lowering the phone from his ear with a sigh. He stared out a window, wrapping a blanket around himself in wait. Minute by minute, the setting sun began to paint over his apartment with the colors of dusk. 15 minutes went by, over with Kenma jumping at a knock on the door.

Kenma almost fell out of bed, tripping over himself on his way to open the door to his apartment. Should he apologize first? He should apologize first. His mind was filled with thoughts of what to say to him. Upon opening the door and seeing Kuroo, he forgot it all.

“Thanks,” Kenma blurted out, making Kuroo blink in surprise. “Thanks for the food. And… sorry,” Kenma looked away, tugging the blanket tighter around himself. “For what I said. And for avoiding you.”

Kenma was about to go on and on, but Kuroo stopped him. “I’m just glad you’re okay,” said Kuroo, smiling down at him. Kenma narrowed his eyes at Kuroo, eyeing him with doubt. Raising up the bag in his hand for Kenma to see, Kuroo asked, “Can I come in? I brought your favorite.”

Kenma nodded, pulling the door open and closing it as Kuroo stepped inside. When he turned around, Kuroo had set the bag onto Kenma’s table and was leaning back into Kenma’s couch. Kenma smiled to himself as Kuroo rotated about, taking in his apartment for the first time. He sat next to Kuroo on the couch, leaning back into the couch beside him.

“Why were you avoiding me?” Kuroo murmured to Kenma after watching the sun set for a while. Kenma knew it was coming, and he wanted to get up, to run away again — but it was Kuroo. Kuroo was… his friend.

“I didn’t want you to see me like that.” Kenma answered slowly. Truthfully. “I didn’t want you to see how tired I am.”

Nodding, Kuroo moved closer, a wordless communication for Kenma to continue. Kenma sighed, tucking his head into Kuroo’s neck. “I can’t even remember when it started happening. When it started to feel like kodzuken was run by my fans and not  _ me _ .”

Kenma paused, gathering his thoughts. “And I love my fans. I know not all of my fans are like that. Not all of them are… controlling.  _ Tiring _ . I know most of them are…” Kenma paused again, brows furrowing. “ _ Good-intentioned _ .

“But… I think I stopped playing games for myself?” Kenma’s thoughts came out as a question, met by a hum of understanding from Kuroo’s side. “I think I stopped playing games  _ I _ want to play, the way  _ I _ want to play them.

“But I  _ love _ games,” Kenma reached out an arm in front of Kuroo and himself, drawing Kuroo’s gaze to his hand, his outspread fingers decorated with callouses. Battle scars from gaming his life away. “I love  _ winning _ . With a plan  _ I _ came up with, and no one else. I love gaming so much that I want to share that with people. That  _ feeling _ .” Kenma almost smiled to himself with pride. Almost. But his face fell, and he went on.

“...I guess to me, being a YouTuber is giving all of that up,” His arm dropped as he finished. Kenma stared out the window, searching for something in the lights flickering on all over the city.

“But you shouldn’t do that, Kenma,” Kuroo said softly. Kenma hid in Kuroo’s neck, not wanting Kuroo to see his face beginning to fall. “You shouldn’t forget about yourself.”

“Well,  _ you _ shouldn’t have to take care of me,” Kenma mumbled into Kuroo’s shoulder.

“I  _ wanna _ take care of you,” Kuroo chuckled, rumbling through Kenma’s warming cheeks, through where the two touched between the blanket. “I wanna take care of you, and I wanna help you take care of yourself.”

Kenma’s face turned to look at Kuroo’s, his eyes wider and his heartbeat faster than he’d ever say. Kuroo met Kenma’s gaze, looking away from the window toward Kenma. Hues of orange and yellow-orange danced about his cheeks, his hazel eyes shining like gold in the setting sun.

For an instant, Kenma was spellbound.

“Can I?”

Kenma blinked, the spell broken by Kuroo’s words. He shook his head, looking away from him. “There’s nothing in it for you.”

Kuroo chuckled again, swaying back and forth into Kenma’s side. “There doesn’t have to be. Not with you.”

Kenma looked into his eyes again, wanting to say “yes” or “please”. Instead, he turned away. “Shut up.” Kuroo simply smiled, pulling the blanket over them with a yawn and a “let’s share”. The sun set, orange fading to black on the city skyline as Kuroo laid his head on top of Kenma’s. His hair was tickling Kenma’s nose, his breath ghosting Kenma’s cheek. Under the covers, Kenma had the thought that he felt at home by Kuroo’s side.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for the kudos on the last chapter !! ^^

“...Hinata?”

Kenma pressed one side of his headphones to his ear — static.

“Hinata, can you —”

“ _ Kenma! _ ”

He jumped at the yell that came from the other end of the call; Kenma hadn’t heard Hinata’s voice since the summer after high school. He eased back into his seat as Hinata began to talk at him, scattering the call with static and his bursts of energy.

“ _ How are you? How’s YouTube? University? _ ” Hinata asked question after question, the excitement in his voice causing his mic to peak into Kenma’s ears over and over again. Nevertheless, Kenma was glad to hear Hinata’s voice again. “ _ We haven’t talked in forever! _ ”

Hinata was studying - what was it? Right, beach volleyball - in Brazil, on the other side of the world. While Kenma would never be used to Hinata’s constant enthusiasm, he missed talking to Hinata— to his  _ friends _ — like this. Like he had all the time in the world.

“Okay,” Kenma replied, a smile making its way to his face. “Everything’s okay.”

Because for the first time in a while, everything  _ was _ okay;  _ Kenma was okay _ . He was taking a break from YouTube. He’d made a short video with the announcement, expecting his viewers to drop, to retaliate — but almost everyone was… supportive. So supportive that  _ maybe _ Kenma teared up at some of their comments. Just maybe, though.

“ _ That’s great, Kenma! _ ” Good thing he called Hinata when it was daytime in Brazil and not nighttime; Kenma could hear Hinata’s enthusiasm all the way from Japan. 

“What about you?” Kenma questioned, tucking a knee into his chest as the game on-screen began to load. “How’s Brazil?”

Kenma was on the call with Hinata for a while, listening and gaming as his friend talked about volleyball, then Brazil, then volleyball again. Hinata had just told a story about his boyfriend coming to visit him in Brazil when  _ BANG! _ Kenma jumped again, pausing the game before whipping to face his door.

“Knew you were up.”

It was Kuroo, smirking at Kenma from the entrance to  _ Kenma’s _ apartment. Kenma glared, narrowing his eyes at both the light pulsing into his eyes and Kuroo’s silhouette against the doorway.

“I’ll call you later, Shouyou,” Kenma sighed into his mic. After an enthusiastic goodbye from Hinata’s end, Kenma ended the call. He turned his gaze back to the screen as Kuroo pulled up a chair and sat next to him.

“You’re still stuck on this one?” Kuroo commented, studying Kenma’s avatar as it moved toward the boss farther down the screen, dodging darts of color shooting out from the boss’ position.

Kenma hummed in response, flicking his wrist as he dodged another one of the boss’ attacks. “I’m close this time, though.”

“So you  _ are _ making progress,” Kuroo trailed off. Though the silence was welcome, Kenma could tell that Kuroo wanted to say something. He could tell from how his gaze wandered to Kenma’s and then away, how his foot  _ tapped _ ,  _ tapped _ ,  _ tapped _ against the floor. Kenma thought about speaking up, of asking Kuroo why he was here… but his avatar was getting closer and closer to the boss, and with just one more hit —

“I’m leaving Japan to study abroad.”

Kenma’s hand jerked on the mouse, leaving an opening for the boss to swing at his avatar. As his avatar’s health dropped to zero, the game went monochrome, the glow from the screen dimming to nothingness. Kenma turned to look at Kuroo, whose eyes were wide at Kenma’s sudden in-game death.

Where? When? For how long?  _ Why _ ? Kenma’s mouth opened, seeking answers to all of his questions.

“Finally.”   
  
That wasn’t what he meant to say.

“Well,” Kuroo chuckled, puffs of laughter in Kenma’s face. “I’m not going  _ yet _ .”

“When are you going, anyway?” Kenma asked, trying to ignore his heart beginning to race in his chest. 

“Why? Are you going to miss me?” Kuroo teased, his face leaning in a bit too close to Kenma’s.   
  
Kenma scowled, pushing Kuroo’s face away with one hand. He felt heat pouring into his neck, his cheeks, his face. His palm, where he could feel Kuroo’s face through the grooves of his fingers. “As if.”

“Well,” Kuroo started, smiling against the palm of Kenma’s hand. Kenma felt himself melting away. “I’m going to miss you.”

Kenma’s face fell, and his hand pulled away from Kuroo’s face. He spun back around, facing his computer and clicking CONTINUE. Kenma tried to game as Kuroo chattered about some economics program, his avatar losing again and again to the boss right in front of him. His playing got worse and worse; all Kenma could think about was Kuroo  _ leaving _ .

“I’m going back, then,” said Kuroo after a while, hands on his knees as he stood up. “I just wanted to let you know.” Kenma nodded, not looking away from the game. When Kenma finally turned around, Kuroo was long gone— his smell being the only thing left behind.


	6. Chapter 6

Kuroo was leaving today.

It had been two weeks since he’d told Kenma he was leaving Japan, that night in Kenma’s apartment. One week since he’d said he was going to America, one day over the phone. Kuroo couldn’t come over as much as before; as happy as Kenma was for him, Kenma made no effort to see him, either. Kenma wasn’t sure if he even  _ wanted _ to see him.

After all, he had to get used to Kuroo being gone — to being alone in Tokyo again.

Kenma made his way over to a window, shading his eyes with a sleeve of his hoodie. The sun had risen, dawn shining down on Kenma as he stood alone in his apartment.

He was  _ already _ missing him. Kenma slid the window open and stuck out his head, arms hanging over the windowsill as he studied the sky above him. Orange, with wisps of white clouds as the sun began to rise over the horizon. He wondered if Kuroo was also looking at the sky, just like Kenma.

A breeze blew, chasing the clouds out of sight. Kenma sighed, breathing out into the cool morning air.

He must be in love with Kuroo.

He ducked his head, the realization causing faint shades of pink to spread from his nose to his cheeks.

He was in love with Kuroo. Kenma felt like crying; it was far, far too late. Kuroo was going to America, and Kenma was going to stay here, in Japan.

The phone began to ring from his bedroom, but Kenma stayed by the window; as much as Kenma wanted to see him, to  _ tell _ him, it would be better if he let Kuroo go.

“Hey, Kenma.”

Kenma tucked his head back into his arms, hiding his pink face in the folds of his sleeve. Of  _ course _ Kuroo left a voicemail.

“I’m on my way to the station right now, the one near your place,” Kuroo continued. Kenma could hear the smile in his voice. “Remember when we first met? When you shut the door in my face? As weird as it sounds, I still wanted to get to know you,” Kuroo laughed, his breaths light through Kenma’s speakers. “I mean, who orders the same thing, from the same place,  _ every _ week?”

Kuroo’s laughter died down, his voice softening with a sigh.

“I’m going to miss you.”

_ I’m going to miss you too, you jerk. _

“But America isn’t  _ that _ far away, right?”

_ Yes, it is. It’s far. You’re going too  _ far _. _

“We can still call. And text. I can still ask you how your day was and you,” Kuroo let out a laugh. Kenma’s chest ached. “You can roll your eyes at me, and tell me to quit acting like your boyfriend. But you’d still talk to me about it anyway, wouldn’t you?”

The distant sound of the taxi screeching to a halt. Kenma bit his lip, the ache in his chest swelling as Kuroo thanked the driver. There was shuffling, an exchange of “thanks” “good night”, and the sound of the taxi door as it closed behind Kuroo.

“Well, I’m here,” Kuroo paused, sighing into his mic. “I’ll try calling you again before I board but…”

The silence hung in the space between Kenma’s ears and the phone. Kuroo knew he wouldn’t pick up, not now and not then. Kenma knew it too, his head drooping with the realization that he hurt Kuroo, after all.

“Look. I know I said it before, but,” Kuroo continued. “I’m  _ really _ going to miss you, Kenma.”

_ Don’t say that. Don’t say it like that. _

“My train’ll be here in about an hour. I gotta go, but I wanna tell y — ”

The voicemail cut off abruptly, leaving Kenma alone with the silence of his apartment as he slowly, slowly turned around.

_ About an hour.  _

Closing the window, Kenma stumbled through his apartment, socks slipping as he rushed from room to room in search of his wallet. He went to his bedroom for the phone, grabbing his keys on the way out.

_ About an hour, before he goes away. _

Kenma threw the door to his apartment wide open, tripping over himself as he struggled to put on his shoes. Kenma slammed into the wall of the hallway, scrambling to his feet and starting to run. 

What was he doing?

Bursting out onto the sidewalk, Kenma glanced to his left and to his right. Which way to the train station? Left? Right? Ah — it was left. Left. Kenma went left, arms flailing as he got his balance. 

All Kenma could hear or see was the pounding of his own heartbeat and the blurring pavement beneath his feet. People and his surroundings flew by in colors and shapes as he ran, ran,  _ ran _ in the direction of the train station.

He didn’t know what he was doing.

All Kenma knew was that he was going to hear the rest of it from Kuroo himself.

* * *

Kuroo stood on a platform at the train station, hands in his pockets as he watched the other side of the tracks. The bell sounded across the station, drowning out the announcement being made overhead. A crowd formed, bumping and pushing into Kuroo as they gathered about the edge of the platform.

_ Kenma never picked up. _

A whistle rang in the air. The first train was approaching, swaying back and forth along the tracks as it grew closer and closer.

“Kuroo!!”

Kuroo straightened up, head spinning as he turned to face the voice.

“ _ The doors are closing, _ ” the announcer called. “ _ The doors are closing _ .”

It was Kenma, panting as he stood a ways from Kuroo. His face was flushed, brows furrowing and fingers clutching at his hoodie as he spoke.

"Don't go."

Kuroo could only stare at Kenma, transfixed to where he stood. The doors slid shut with the shift of the train, rushing by as the two just watched each other from afar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahh a cliffhanger ending it is... or so it would be, if i didn't come up with an epilogue
> 
> thanks for all of the support ! last one this november :)


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